


Exigency

by Dhillarearen



Series: Two Guys Bein Dudes [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Also existing Neil/Andrew and Matt/Dan, First time having sex with each other, M/M, Polyamory, Smut, Trans Character, Trans Male Neil Josten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22535797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dhillarearen/pseuds/Dhillarearen
Summary: In which there is a TV in the bedroom, to which not a lot of attention is paid.
Relationships: Matt Boyd/Neil Josten
Series: Two Guys Bein Dudes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621489
Comments: 31
Kudos: 143





	Exigency

Neil is sitting on Matt’s lap in the middle of Matt and Dan’s giant bed, not paying attention to the movie playing on the TV screen. It’s an expensive TV, sleek black with a little blue light that blinks in a very official-looking way, and Neil knows from months of hearing the saga that Dan had to do a lot of arguing to get a television in the bedroom in the first place—apparently Matt thinks it keeps people from getting out of bed. He’d point out the hypocrisy of Matt using it now, when Dan is at work, but Matt isn’t doing much movie-watching, either.  
  
“Mm,” Neil says, approving, as Matt’s mouth tracks slowly up the side of his neck, meandering and lingering in places that make Neil shiver. Neil tilts his head back onto Matt’s shoulder, and he feels Matt smile against his pulse point. Matt’s hands are big and warm on Neil’s hips, soothing, a counterpoint to the wicked thing that is the velvet touch of his tongue. In sweatpants and a hoodie gone rough on the inside from wear, with his hair unwashed and tangled, Neil feels wanted. He feels desirable. He feels like fire. Banked, not burning, but ready to set the room ablaze at the slightest spark more.  
  
When Matt closes his teeth around Neil’s earlobe, gently, Neil jerks backwards, a white-hot flash running from the spot all the way down to his toes. Matt gasps and lifts Neil’s hips forward again, and Neil blinks the dizziness from his spinning vision and lets his hand fall to Matt’s thigh. On screen somebody swings a sword in a manner that looks impractical.  
  
“You’re hard,” Neil says. His voice is breath-thin.  
  
Matt’s mouth leaves Neil’s skin, and Neil misses it immediately. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it, no big deal.”  
  
Both of Neil’s hands are on Matt’s thighs now. Through Matt’s basketball shorts Neil can feel the bunching muscle. He opens his mouth and words fill it, as they always do, there for Neil when he needs them but his mind hasn’t figured out how to phrase things yet. “I want to worry about it.”  
  
For a moment Matt’s fingers dig into Neil’s hips. He eases them as soon as he notices, and Neil makes a disgruntled noise so Matt will know he quite enjoyed that, actually. To Neil’s displeasure Matt doesn’t repeat the pressure. Instead he’s pulling away, and Neil is panicking—and then he’s not, just as quickly, because all Matt has done is turn Neil around so he can see his face. There’s a great metallic clanging happening on the TV behind him. It might be the least Neil has ever cared about anything. Matt’s eyes are wide, and dark, and like this Neil can see the curling of his eyelashes.  
  
“What,” Matt says. His voice cracks. He licks his lips and tries again. “What do you want to, um, do?”  
  
This is different. Andrew is the one who tells Neil what he can and cannot do, and Neil always wants what Andrew gives him. Matt’s sitting underneath him, hands petting at Neil’s sides, and he’s so—so trusting. What if Neil does something wrong? How can he know if Matt doesn’t tell him beforehand?  
  
“Just ‘cause you said it doesn’t mean we have to do anyth—”  
  
“I know,” Neil says, and gives Matt a Look that has Matt ducking his head sheepishly.  
  
“Just checking,” Matt says.  
  
“This isn’t a Sexual Harassment PSA.”  
  
“Yeah, well.”  
  
Matt’s sitting there, handsome and waiting, firm under Neil’s legs. What does Neil want? Neil bites at his lower lip and has the shivery pleasure of watching Matt’s eyes fall to his mouth. “Andrew usually tells me what to do.”  
  
One of Matt’s hands leaves Neil’s hip and slides into his hair. He doesn’t seem to mind that it’s matted and greasy. “I, um. Kind of like it when it’s more back and forth.”  
  
Wow, Neil thinks, for a moment outside his body. I’m having a conversation about sex with Matt. He almost laughs, and then Matt’s fingers catch a snarl and the tug is enough to bring Neil firmly back to himself. He lets his eyes fall closed, sinking into the pressure. Realizing he likes having his hair pulled was a wonderful day, and even if it was years ago now he thinks about it often.  
  
Andrew was wearing a hoodie, just like Neil is now. It might even be the same one.  
  
The memory gives Neil the courage to inch forward, the front of his pants touching where Matt is still hard in his own. Matt curses and tugs again, and Neil lets his mouth hang open, strung between the anchoring hand in his hair and the solid ridge of Matt underneath him. He opens his eyes a moment before Matt kisses him, stifling his own murmured profanity on Neil’s tongue.  
  
“I wanna touch you,” Matt says, when he pulls back, fitting his mouth to the hinge of Neil’s jaw. “Tell me I can?”  
  
Neil nods, and tries to get closer but his sweatpants get trapped under his knees and he’s stuck. Matt comes up to smile at him, opens his mouth to make fun, and Neil shoves his face away with a hand and struggles to get leverage in the stupid-soft mattress so he can roll off of Matt and get his pants off.  
  
“Having trouble?” Matt says, when it takes Neil longer than a few seconds. Neil has no idea what is wrong with his sweatpants today, and decides that after this he’s going to burn them. If he feels like getting up. Maybe there’s something to Matt’s dire prediction of the TV making people one with their beds.  
  
“Shut up,” Neil says, flipping Matt off. Matt grins and leans over, and with his help soon Neil is sitting atop the duvet in just his hoodie and his underwear. It’s colder without the thick fleece, and goosebumps prickle up Neil’s exposed legs. Matt rubs his thumb over the band-aid from Neil’s last shot, and the goosebumps have another reason, now.  
  
“Shit,” Matt says.  
  
“You gonna do anything, or just look?” Neil likes it when Matt looks at him, but right now he’s preoccupied with how little Matt is touching him.  
  
“Yeah, okay,” Matt says. Neil expects him to use his hand, maybe slide his fingers under Neil’s boxers. He does not expect Matt to bend forward and apply his mouth through the cotton.  
  
“Ah!”  
  
Neil jolts so violently he hits Matt’s nose with his hipbone. Matt backs off, wincing and covering his nose with a hand. “Ow, fuck, Neil!”  
  
“Oh shit,” Neil says. He scrambles forward, the bed once again fighting to tip him over, and takes away Matt’s hand to see the damage for himself. A tiny drop of blood wells up under Matt’s left nostril when Neil pokes at the bridge of Matt’s nose. Not ideal.  
  
“You’re bleeding.”  
  
“Fuck.” Matt reaches for the bedside table, but Neil is faster, even on the damned mattress. He takes several tissues from the box and hands one to Matt, wadding one up to set underneath Matt’s nose himself. The drop of blood stains it immediately.  
  
“Great start, team,” Matt says. He’s beginning to sound plugged up. He lets Neil tip his head back and yelps when Neil feels at his tender face with the hand not holding the tissue.  
  
“It’s not broken,” Neil says, once he’s sure. He’s re-set his own broken nose on numerous occasions; he knows what to check for. “You’ll be fine.”  
  
“Thangs.”  
  
“Probably should wait to stop bleeding before you try again, though.”  
  
“Oh, bleedig-- blee _ding_ on my partner’s crotch is my best move."  
  
At least Matt doesn’t seem to be mad at him. It makes the nervous fluttering in Neil’s chest calm down. Matt gives him a thumbs up and Neil smiles back, crooked. Still, he wants to do something to make up for nearly breaking Matt’s face.  
  
“ _I_ could try,” he says.  
  
Matt swallows. “Um. I’m not, like, pissed off at you. You don’t have to make me feel better.”  
  
“I _want_ to make you feel better,” Neil says. Now that he’s had the thought, it’s the only thing in his head, filling up all the empty spaces in his brain. He scoots down the bed, lying on his stomach, and drags Matt’s shorts down his legs. Matt’s still hard, which makes a relieved and happy warmth settle in Neil’s belly. He flicks his eyes up to see Matt staring down at him, holding the tissue to his nose, his expression scorching. Because he thinks it will get a reaction, Neil grins up at him, sly as he can make it, and flicks the tip of his tongue over Matt’s cock. Matt makes a strangled noise, his free hand tightening into a fist. Neil did that; Neil made Matt sound like that, look like this right now, like he wants to make an altar to Neil’s lordship and make sacrifices up on it daily. Andrew is never so open with his expressions, and Neil doesn’t mind, but he realizes he likes this, too. He takes a deep breath slides as much of Matt into his mouth as he can fit in one go.  
  
It’s not the whole thing; Neil has to work up to that with Andrew, and Matt is a different shape to get used to. Funny that he never thought about the differences between dicks before, or maybe it makes sense given how little he thinks about anyone’s dick other than Andrew’s. The vein on the bottom presses into Neil’s tongue as he strokes it there, feeling Matt out. Matt’s hand finds its way back to Neil’s hair and Neil hums encouragement, liking the way it makes Matt curse and the muscles in his belly jump.  
  
“Neil, oh,” Matt is saying, an endless stream of babble that’s more like what Neil does in bed than Andrew’s relative silence. “Yes, right like that, so good baby.”  
  
It would sound silly out-of-context, and it sounds a little silly in-context too, but the praise has Neil flushing all over. He bobs his head and Matt shouts, tipping his head back farther so it thunks against the headboard. There’s a dicey moment where his hips rock and Neil nearly chokes, and Neil likes that but he also likes some warning beforehand, so he pulls off to glare and lets Matt pet his head and apologize until he’s decided he’s tortured Matt enough and goes back down. This is power. Neil loves it so much he finds himself grinding against the bed, hopelessly hard himself.  
  
“Neil,” Matt says in warning, right about when Neil’s jaw starts to get that tired ache. He drags insistently at Neil’s hair, and Neil moans around him, setting of a chain reaction of curses. He’d like Matt to come in his mouth but he’s overcome with the desire to see it, this first time; with a split-second decision he replaces his mouth with his hand and watches, fascinated, as Matt snaps his hips up and comes in long stripes up his bare torso, shuddering with it and chanting Neil’s name over and over. Neil swipes a finger through the mess on Matt’s abdomen and Matt moans. He pulls at Neil’s hair and hoodie until Neil climbs on top of him, and then kisses Neil so hard Neil forgets he has a body.  
  
He’s reminded when Matt’s fingers cup him, over the damp spot that’s starting to make his boxers stick to him. Neil goes boneless at the feeling, collapsing onto Matt’s chest. He didn’t realize he was this desperate until Matt touched him, but now if he doesn’t get Matt’s hand on him he thinks he might die.  
  
Something about that must show through because Matt, wonderful Matt, slides his hand up the leg of Neil’s boxers and drags his knuckles over Neil’s dick. Neil muffles a shout in Matt’s chest, rocking his hips frantically. Matt kisses the side of his head and makes a shushing noise.  
  
“Hey, hey, I’ve got you. Relax. I’ll get you there, okay?”  
  
“Matt,” Neil says. He doesn’t like how his own voice sounds when he’s like this, but he knows Andrew does and from Matt’s sharp intake of breath, so does he. The light pressure is maddening, but when he forces himself to stop fighting for more it does help take away some of the frantic edge that had Neil wanting to crawl out of his skin.  
  
“M sorry I bloodied your nose,” Neil says into Matt’s skin. He doesn’t have control over his own mouth right now. “Don’ want you to hurt. You have a good nose. Oh! Fuck.”  
  
He can tell Matt’s smiling. “It happens. Got you in my lap though, so it’s worth it.”  
  
“I’d do anyway,” Neil says. He’s so wet Matt’s fingers are slipping now, the friction not enough. “More, I need, I need, I need—”  
  
“Shhhh, baby, don’t force it,” Matt murmurs. He pauses to rub some of the wetness off on the inside of Neil’s thigh, and when he comes back Neil has to sink his teeth into Matt’s pectoral muscle to keep from sobbing. Matt likes that, tells Neil so, tells him he’s doing so good, let go, sweetheart.  
  
“It's easy when it's you, I--” Neil hears himself say, but he never gets to the end because he’s coming, and Matt strokes him through it until it’s too much and Neil has to wiggle away. He’s panting, and so is Matt. They look at each other, feeling the sweat cooling on their underarms and necks.  
  
Matt’s the first one to speak. “Woah.”  
  
“Mmhm,” Neil says. He and Matt reach for each other at the same time. He curls into Matt’s side and Matt’s arm comes down around him, heavy and warm. He’s a little bit smug and a lot bit tired and very, very happy.  
  
“Aw, we missed the bit with the nun,” Matt says, squinting at the TV screen. Neil knows he’s teasing, but he slaps Matt’s chest anyway, and leaves his hand there so he can feel the rumble of Matt’s laughter.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> People: tell me they liked my mattneil fic
> 
> Me: you've solved it. you've unlocked the secret More Content mode hidden in my coding


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